


Death Of The Holy Servant

by casstayinmyass



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Season/Series 06, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7416331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The High Sparrow gets his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Of The Holy Servant

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I wrote this for myself, you, or the whole bloody world. Just ask anybody I know how much I dislike this motherfucker. 
> 
> This story may be unrealistic. You may need to suspend your disbelief. But I tried my best to keep from writing OOC, amidst this delicious end to a not so delicious man.

Tommen walked briskly down the halls of the Sept, one pressing thought on his mind: negotiating with the High Sparrow. With what he had heard of this man, he didn't seem altogether too unreasonable- and though Tommen was only a boy in the eyes of some and quite naive in the eyes of many, he knew that a man who could be reasoned with was rare amongst fanatics.

"I've come to speak with the High Sparrow," he told the Septa, who raised a hand to stop him from entering.

"He is in prayer," she said in a monotone, lifeless voice. At first, the young lion didn't know what to do. It was not a regular occurrence for him to be refused entry anywhere, most recently after his coronatio,. But he was not his late brother; he did not have any burning desire to cut off this woman's head for the inconvenience. Clearing his throat and holding his head a little higher, Tommen tried again.

"I am your king, and I command you to stand aside." He hoped that sounded more like a command and less like a courteous request.

"He is in prayer," the Septa repeated, eyes dull and shapeless body un-budging. Tommen became a little flustered, giving a quick glance around at his Kingsguard.

"I do not wish for things to... escalate into your removal from this room," he said, puffing out his chest a little more. Unfortunately, this did not strike up any fear in the woman's eyes. "This is urgent business!"

"He is in-"

Before she could finish her predictable statement, the door opened with a long creak.

"Your Grace," the old man said, nodding slightly, "What a pleasure to see you today." Tommen looked at the Lady pointedly, who looked less than impressed to let him by, but did anyway. After the door was closed and the two were alone, Tommen stepped forward.

"Your Holiness," he greeted politely, "I've come to speak with you about my wife and brother by law." There was little hesitation in the Sparrow's eyes- he must have expected such reason to visit. He nodded.

"I see. And, what, may I ask, is this regarding?" Tommen suddenly felt a streak of rage, watching the man's eyes study him back. How dare he ask something like that? After all that he had done to Margaery, to Loras?!

"You know very well," Tommen growled, surprising himself with how intimidating he had actually sounded. The Septon only seemed amused. 

"Ah... their atonement, you've come to discuss?"

"At- Atonement?!" Tommen balked, "Don't you think they've atoned for enough?! After what you put them through?"

"I serve the gods," the Sparrow said, "As I do not serve myself, my actions are simply to carry out Their will."

"So you would justify parading my bride through the streets naked as Holy will?" Tommen asked incredulously. The Sparrow nodded once.

"The gods demand justice, your Grace."

"And I demand respect for the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, wife to the most powerful man in Westeros!" Tommen told him, building up courage as he went on.

"The Faith does not answer to the Crown." The response was curt, and final, and Tommen didn't like it. Not at all.

"I will have my wife freed, and my brother by law with her. As long as I am King, I will see it done," Tommen said, and rose. The Sparrow gave a bow as he exited, one that Tommen did not stay long enough to witness... all for the better perhaps- he was so livid he would have taken it as a mockery.

-0-0-0-

"Why did you arm them?!" Tommen asked, rubbing his temples. Cersei sighed, and Jaime spoke.

"Your mother did what she felt was right. Religion has always been a risky area, but she dealt with it because it had to be dealt with."

"And look how that turned out," Cersei muttered, finishing her third glass of wine and running her hand through her non-existent hair. Jaime looked down.

"Yes, looking back, the High Sparrow may not have been the most... stable candidate for the job," he admitted, "But how could you have known that?"

"He is stable!" Tommen cut in, "That's the point. That's why he can't be moved, Uncle, he's too stable in his beliefs... nobody can knock him down."

"But you're the King, my darling," Cersei said soothingly, grasping his chin gently, "The King can do as he so pleases."

"The Faith doesn't seem to think so," Tommen retorted.

"The Faith doesn't seem to think at all," Jaime deadpanned, then he put a hand on Tommen's shoulder. "Tommen, mixing politics and religion is a dangerous thing to do." The boy nodded, inhaling deeply.

"I've let this stupidity go on for long enough. I must do everything to prevent him from spreading his fanaticism further," he said softly, looking out the window at the night sky.

"Who said anything about you?" Cersei asked, rubbing his shoulders.

"You're the King. The majority of the people now support the Faith, and if they find out their leader has engaged in closed combat with those who serve their savior, we could have a rebellion on our hands, which we can't afford right now." Tommen nodded slowly, and Cersei leaned into his ear.

"We will end him. _Crush_ the High Sparrow. I built him up, I can rip him back down, lower than he's ever been before."

"And don't think we won't," Jaime said, "We have a few people in mind for the job."

"Who?" Tommen asked, frowning. Cersei sighed, seeming as if she just tasted something that had turned.

"A few... _unmentionables_ , that share our beliefs and desire for vengeance against these great outrages. We must unite in times of crisis," she gritted out, and Jaime nodded.

"It will all be over soon."

"And... the High Sparrow?" Tommen asked nervously.

"Will get what's coming to him," Cersei smiled.

-0-0  -0-

"A small affair, eh?" Bronn asked, hooking his thumbs into his belt as he surveyed the area, "Looks like a pretty _big_ affair. Am I s'posed to be killin' every bloody robed fucker with a star on their forehead?"

"No, no," Jaime assured the knight, "Just the one that matters. Now, he has somewhat of a superiority complex-"

"Sounds like someone I know," Bronn interrupted, sizing Jaime up and down, and the Lannister sighed.

"Listen, just... we'll lead you to him, and... you know the rest."

"Aye... I know the rest. You want his head on a spike, or the plain old fashioned slice and dice?" Jaime studied Bronn, who seemed to be quite excited at the prospect of a legal murder, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," he said.

"Oh, I'm comfortable with a lot of things. I'm comfortable with slicing a man's balls off and stuffing them down his bleeding throat. I'm comfortable with fucking a Dornish girl 'til they know my name across the Narrow Sea. I'm comfortable with three whores taking turns on my-"

"Alright, that's enough," Jaime muttered with an eye-roll, and Bronn shrugged as the two walked off to meet Cersei. Once they saw her, Jaime inquired as to where their last companion was.

"They're not here yet. Quite inconvenienced they had to make the journey back up after finally returning home, but I assured them it was worth it."

"Shall we wait?"

"Oh no. They'll arrive in no time, and I'm already craving to watch his face as he feels his life slowly ebbing out of him, gaze upon the blood that stains his place of prayer." Bronn raised an eyebrow.

"I like you."

"I don't care," Cersei snapped, and whirled around, coming face to face with Lady Olenna Tyrell.

"I do hope I'm not late," the older woman said, "Not for your sake, of course, but for the sake of my poor grandchildren. It's your fault they're in there, you know... you should still be in there, rotting with them in your own blood and shit." Cersei looked down. "But now that you are out, at least we have your drive for revenge on our side." Smoothing out her dress and adjusting her scarves, she nodded. "Now... let's go kill this High Robin twat." With that, the Lady of Highgarden turned around as well, Jaime leading them all down to the Sept. Bronn leaned into him.

"I like _her_ even more." Jaime smiled a little; the fiery- or just plain ornery- Olenna Tyrell did grow on him, though he would never tell his sister that.

-0-0-0-

"You're reading more and more each day," the High Sparrow said fondly, patting Margaery on the back. She looked up with a sweet smile.

"I just can't stop myself, High Septon. These texts are filling all the emptiness inside of me I never knew was there," she said, and the Sparrow chuckled.

"And that, my dear, is how I know you're on the path to redemption." Margaery watched as the old man shuffled over to the window, turning his back to her momentarily as he rambled on about faith and sinning. She let a scowl overtake her face as she imagined ripping this idiot's throat out... of course, there was only one way out of this: faking. And oh, over her few years of, shall we say, _recreational_ activity, she had perfected that art to the very detail.

"-And that is why confessions must be so pure," the Sparrow finished his speech, turning, and Margaery's face lit up like a torch again. Time to show this old man how much she truly loved the gods.

"Oh, Septon... I have a confession."

"I am always here to listen to a sinner repent," he replied, sitting down beside her. She blinked.

"I do fret sometimes," she murmured, blinking down dramatically.

"Why is that, child?" he asked. 

 _Because I'm so dry I could starve an army down there, and I won't be getting any anytime soon unless I confess how much I yearn for it,_ she thought, but that was just her grandmother talking. Staving off a smirk, she feigned a sigh. "I worry that I'll get lost along the path to righteousness... that the light of the Seven won't shine on me because of," she added a sniffle for good measure, "What I've done."

"The mother is merciful," the Sparrow assured, "But you must tread carefully- doubting this mercy is a great sin." Margaery resisted an eye-roll, and nodded, batting her eyelashes.

"I won't doubt the mother any longer. I know she'll lead me down the right path... the path to absolve me."

"Ah, but _you_ must do that, my dear," the Sparrow smiled, "Keep reading, as you keep your faith so well. Your atonement approaches."

 _I've walked naked in front of too many bloody men in my life, why not add a few more?_ the princess of Highgarden thought boredly as she heard the horrid sound of the door closing on her again. She thought of her mother by law's time in the cells. She deserved it, Margaery knew that. Cersei was a bitch, plain and simple. But the reason why she was so angry was because she, herself, had armed the Septon with this power, and she now, most likely, would attempt to take it back. Margaery certainly hoped that method would be effective, but if it was not, she knew what she was doing herself. Cersei almost broke under the shame. But Margaery could do it. She was strong, unlike her brother, and this was a battle of wit- a battle she could win with ease and lots of patience.

-0-0-0-

Cersei, Jaime, Olenna, and Bronn made it down to the Sept at the setting of the sun, just in time to slip in unnoticed... that is, until a group of Sparrows asked why they had come. The four turned, and Jaime held his hands up.

"We only came for a peaceful chat... nothing more, nothing less," he told them.

"At night?" one Sparrow asked skeptically, "When the High Sparrow is at prayer?" They murmured amongst themselves of their suspicions. Cersei interrupted them.

"Look, do you think we would bring a poor, frail old woman along with us if we planned on fighting?" she asked, enjoying the jab at her former rival. Olenna gave her the side-eyes, then smiled pleasantly over at the Sparrows.

"Yes. The Seven forbid my poor, old, frail self witness such a thing."

"Are you a praying woman?" one asked her quietly, and Olenna grit her teeth together before smiling, for the sake of them all.

"Seven hells, of course I am! Seven save us all, what a question! Seven have mercy, I am most certainly."

"Stop saying 'seven'," Jaime hissed, and Olenna huffed. The group looked at each other, and Bronn's hand carefully reached behind his back to the hilt of his dagger, preparing for what was to come, if need be. Then the tense silence was broken.

"You may go."

Everyone seemed to relax just a little, and Olenna smiled at all of them.

" _Seven_ blessings."

They made it down to the room that Tommen spoke to the High Sparrow before, where Septa Unella was waiting to spread her cheer, as always.

"The High Sparrow is at prayer," she informed them, "He won't be out tonight."

"We need to speak with him," Cersei said, "Tell them who has come."

"I cannot interrupt him. He is at prayer," she repeated, unmoving.

"I think that just means he's taking a shit," Bronn commented, and everyone turned to him. Unella gave a withering glare, and the former sellsword tried his hardest not to crack up at his own joke. Jaime sighed, wondering why he brought Bronn along in the first place. Then he remembered all the times he had gutted men in front of him, and was reminded again.

"Let us pass, and we won't have a problem," Cersei said.

"He is-"

"At prayer- yes, so we've heard," Jaime said impatiently, "That doesn't change the fact that the royal family is here to speak with him, and demands his compliance."

"He won't be out tonight," the Septa said slowly, as if they were too stupid to understand her words, and Cersei smirked a little.

"Ser Bronn?"

Bronn drew his dagger, which glinted in the now cascading moonlight, and grinned.

-0-0-0-

"This business must be very urgent indeed," the Sparrow said, standing up with difficulty from where he was knelt in prayer. "This is a sacred time... sinners like yourselves are not welcome here."

"Would you like a hand, High Septon?" Jaime asked.

"Oh, no. I'm fine."

"Good, because I've only got one," the blonde joked with a little wave of his golden hand, and smacked him with it. The High Sparrow fell over, coughed, and looked up angrily.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"You took something from us. We'd like it back," Cersei said.

"Margaery and Loras Tyrell," Jaime drawled, "To be specific."

"I have told you time and time again, that I do not have the authority to release them. They have sinned, and must at- OOF!" Jaime hit him again, inspecting the fake hand.

"This comes in handy."

"Doesn't change the fact that you're shit fighter," Bronn muttered, and crossed his arms. Cersei turned back to the Sparrow.

"You see, High Septon... you can release the Heir to Highgarden and the Queen. You have two hands. You have free will. And you have four very angry, very motivated people who would love to see you burn."

Though a flicker of fear crossed his eyes, the man held his head high defiantly. "Sinners do not deserve release. I did not make these rules, I only serve the gods who did." Cersei was tired of hearing this.

"Hmm... pity," she murmured softly, "I would have loved to see your expression of defeat when we took back control of King's Landing." She nodded to Jaime, who stood him up.

"For every Sparrow you kill, more will hunt you down," the High Sparrow warned, "It is an honor to die in the name of the Seven."

"Well, say hello to them for me, when we've ended your reign of bloodshed and oppression," Jaime said, and held him in place. "Cersei? Would my sweet sister like to do the honor?"  The Sparrow struggled in his grip some more, but Jaime held tighter.

"No... as much as I loathe to admit, I believe this honor goes to someone else." Opening the door, Bronn let Lady Olenna in, who took one look at the High Sparrow and smiled mysteriously. Bronn passed her his dagger, and nodded to her.

"You will all go to hell for this," the Sparrow said softly, assuredly, and Cersei smirked once more.

"That's somewhat inevitable by now."

Lady Olenna walked up to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, positioned the dagger, and muttered, with every shred of courage she was born with: "The Tyrells send their regards," and stabbed him right in the heart. With a gasp, the High Sparrow fell, his blood running red across the stone floor.

"And so ends a reign of anarchy," Cersei whispered.

"And so ends a cunt," Bronn added, and they all, once again, stared at the knight.

-0-0-0-

Now that King's Landing had been returned to its previous state, all was well. Brothels were booming once more, (after some skilled convincing from Lord Baelish that they were safe as ever now), and the people had, more or less, accepted the Sparrows had lost power. Even without their High Septon, the fanatics had still stayed true to their vows- they did not fear death, but without a leader, they met theirs sooner rather than later at the hands of many a willing Kingsguard. The fanatics who did survive didn't give up easily- many still roamed, slaying in the name of the Seven and spreading their faithful ways like wildfire. But for now, the threat of another coup remained dormant as a sleeping dragon.

It would be a lie to say Tommen did not regret it, at least a little. Sometimes he lay awake at night, wishing he had spared the life of the old man- he was never much of a killer, even if he didn't carry it out himself. Then he would look down, and gaze at his sleeping wife, who was now back in his arms and feisty and healthy as ever, along with her brother, because of this decision- and realized he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
